Is it Time to Give Up Yet?

Following last week's blog, a friend wrote to ask my advice – “I’ve been writing for years, without success. Is it time to give up?”

Obviously that’s something no one else can answer. And equally obviously I’m going to have a try – which could be a definition of the difference between discussing and answering.

I believe that failure is one of the taboos of our society. One of the themes in Peeling the Onion, taken from my life, is how the protagonist, Anna, deals with her ‘failure’ to fully recover after her car accident.

And giving up is often equated with failure.  “Don’t give up!” we encourage our children when they are trying something difficult, but ultimately within their grasps. “Never give up your dreams!” the self help books tell us as adults, when we are aiming at something that eludes us. No wonder so many of us find feel ashamed to even think of giving up, chucking it in, throwing in the towel…

A school counselor friend recently commented that pessimists had a bad rap. “The world wouldn’t function if it was all left to the optimists,” she claimed (which made another friend and me squirm, till we optimistically decided that we generally had enough pessimism to cope with life.) But it made me think: “What if we reframe the question about giving up? If something isn’t working, is it truly sensible or admirable to spend the rest of our lives being optimistically tenacious and determined (ie Never Giving Up!)

Because the problem is that time is finite. Okay, not in the Stephen Hawking sense of time and space, but the amount of time that we each have in our productive lives. So if we keep hammering away at one particular thing, and feeling that we’ve failed by whatever measures we’ve set ourselves – whether it’s friend & family feedback publication, or making a living from our craft – as well as battering our self esteem into the ground, we limit the time we have to explore something new. Something that might enrich our lives, give us joy, or even success. Something that might bring new possibilities we’ve never dreamed of, (including cycling back to the original dream in a new way.)

Would a better question be, “Is it time to give my dream a holiday, and explore new possibilities?”

Or, “Is it time to broaden my horizons and challenge myself in a totally new direction?” (I know I was facetious in another post, and said ‘brain surgery or sky-diving,’ but this time I’m being serious. Cooking, life drawing, pottery, music, singing

And the final question, “Is the pursuit of my dream is bringing me joy, or satisfaction in any way?”

If the answer is “No,” maybe it’s time to give it a rest. (I say ‘rest’ because taking a break from writing is not irrevocable, no matter how sincerely you mean it. You’re allowed to change your mind.)

Because life is mysterious, and we never know what’s just around the corner. Taking a break from a dream might just mean succeeding at life. 

Rejection Letters and Shattered Dreams

To my discouraged writer friend

I don’t blame you for feeling down  – rejection stinks. You’ve worked so hard on your novel; you love your characters so much, you know it’s better than some of the trash you’ve seen on the shelves… so why hasn’t anyone published it?

The truth is, I don’t know the answer.

It might be that it’s brilliant, and hasn’t found the right publisher yet.

It might be that it’s a work you had to write as part of your writing apprenticeship, and although it’s helped you grow in your craft, and brought you joy in its creation as well as despair in its rejection, it is in some way too personally yours for a publisher to risk investing in.

It may be that you will never know which.

So while you wonder, the choices are:

1)   Give up; take up sky diving or brain surgery instead. Or, more seriously - take a holiday from writing, refresh yourself and then make your decisions. 

2)   Pour every atom of your energy into having this work published. Some people do this, and it works. Others do it, and it comes close to destroying them. You need to decide whether doing so will move you forward or stunt your growth. 

But this is my preference:

 3) Recognise, acknowledge and honour your legitimate grief for your hopes for this creation.

Meditate, do EFT tapping, talk it out, exercise it out… whatever works for you.

When you've dealt with it, you'll be able to put the loved work aside, and start a new one. Ideas are infinite. You’re a writer: you will find more. You’re a human: your love will grow to accommodate your new story and characters. Like any new relationship, you need to let go of the old love and throw everything you have into the new one.

In six months, in a year, in twenty, have another look at your first love. Maybe the time will be right for it – you’ll dust it off and someone will leap at it. Maybe you can use the setting and characters in another story. The worst-case scenario is that it will show you how you’ve grown.

And while you're deciding, don't forget that nearly all of us whom you see as successful have been through this, and still go through it in varying degrees. Sometimes all we can tell ourselves is the mantra: it's never wasted. 

Good luck!

Wendy

I never save rejection letters, but this is a pretty rejected looking page from Nim at Sea. 

Nim's song for Selkie

Since I've been busy with a new character today, Nim said I could put up the song she wrote for Selkie.

Selkie’s Song

Swimming with Selkie in the sea

from NIM'S ISLAND, illustration by Kerry Millard

Feels so wild and feels so free

Dolphins leap and fishes flee

When I'm swimming with Selkie in the sea.

Snuggling with Selkie in the night

When shadows are dark 

           and the moon is bright

Selkie whuffles that we're all right

When I'm snuggling with Selkie in the night.

From NIM AT SEA, illustration by Kerry Millard

From the Film Nim's Island, Walden Media 2008

Treasure Map

Following the blog on story mapping, a mother sent me a map her daughter had drawn: it was to be a treasure map, but also became Nim's island.

One of the nicest things about being sent things like this is that it reminds me of exactly who I'm writing for: kids who can still throw themselves whole-heartedly into the game of make-believe that is part of reading. There's nothing better than the proof that someone has taken your story on board so completely that it becomes their own.

(And notice the 'aged' paper. Isn't that wonderful!)

The writer's curse: fear of the blank page

I think every writer knows the paralysing fear of the blank page or screen. (Maybe paralysis is the wrong word: often this fear drives me to other scintillating and suddenly urgent tasks, like sorting out files or cleaning the oven.) But I was amused to find that even  starting the drawing  I talked about yesterday - the story map that was just for me, that would never be seen by anyone else - held this same fear.

Because I have to admit I lied. I said I was doing the drawing, and I had the paper out, and I was going to do it just as soon as I finished the post. That part was all honest.

But somehow I didn't. Somehow it was time to walk the dog, and then make dinner, and I couldn't possibly do it after that because it was too late, and I wasn't alone in the house, and, and, and...

So this morning I made it my priority. I put on meditative music, made my coffee, and started scribbling. I used scrap paper to remind myself that it was just scribbling, that I would be throwing out many pages before I worked out what I wanted.

And it worked. That's the amazing bit. I certainly don't have a beautiful map: I have several pages of scribbles, with different shapes, lines and arrows,  East-West-North-South crossed out and replaced as I worked out where I wanted the sun to rise. But I now have a much better idea of what this landscape and its buildings are like, and therefore of the story.  In the end I worked for about four hours, as the map details led me to questions, and so to reference books and google, where a  picture or item started another question or chain of thought...

We don't all work the same way. But one thing always holds true: at some point you have to start. And it doesn't matter how small the start is, it'll never be so scary again.

Story Mapping

Usually when people talk about story mapping, they mean mapping out the shape of your story: how the smaller chapter peaks and cliff hangers build up to the great climax. Personally, that's not something I can do before the first draft is done, and even then it's more something I'm aware of than a formal, written chart.

What I mean is literally drawing maps for each story. Anyone who knows me and my sense of direction might find this amusing  – but actually it's even more important if you don't have that natural sense of where things are and how they fit together. The map I created of Nim's island was up on my wall the whole time I worked on the book, and later sent to Kerry Millard, the illustrator, to be prettied up for publication. (I love the antique puffy-faced winds she added! The "not to scale" was my husband's comment, which Kerry thought was so funny she added it too.

For Raven's Mountain (Australia)/ Facing the Mountain  (coming in February in Canada), I had large scale maps of National Parks in British Columbia, then my own drawings of the mountain, her path down it, the camp site... if you've got a character out in the wild, you need to know which way the sun comes up over the lake, and remember that it's not going to set in the same place.

Today I'm drawing a temple-palace - I'm not quite sure yet which it'll be called, though I have a feeling that  I'll know when I work out the drawing.  It'll take a while - drawing is another of my not-so-gifted gifts – but I learn a lot about what I need to know as I do it. I get a better feeling of the materials; I know the colour of the stone now, and it's not what I thought it would be. It's all part of digging yourself into the character and the story.

I can't share these now, but here's one I made for Raven's mountain: a salt dough conception of the peak, to see if my idea of how it could have eroded would work.

It doesn't have to be just for fantasy kingdoms or eroded mountains: if you're not sure of some of the logic in your story, or your character isn't coming to life, pick up a pencil and start doodling ideas about their home, their street, their town. If you can picture their kitchen, their bedroom and garden, you'll know a lot more about them. You'll probably never use those details, but knowing them will give your character greater depth, and a better chance of coming to life on the page.